


Something Good Can Work

by blarfkey



Series: Skyhold University AU [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Fluff and Smut, College AU, Consensual Non-Consent, Edging, Ellana explores sex with the best teacher, Exploring Sexuality, F/M, Fingering, I am really attached so Zevran/Ellana, I will add more tags as we go, Idk what happened, Knife Play, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Modern AU, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sex as a way to work through trauma, Vibrators, but no blood, listen, loving boyfriend/lover Zevran, relationship au lol, sorry solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:19:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfkey/pseuds/blarfkey
Summary: A series of extremely smutty, extremely self indulgent one shots exploring what it would be like if Zevran and Ellana got together in Dear Fen'Harel. It started out as a fun "what if" to practice my smut writing and then it just . . .got out of hand. The chemistry is just too electric, sorry not sorry. I was going to wait until Dear Fen'harel is over, but the smut keeps building up.You don't need to read Dear Fen'harel to understand! Just know it's a modern day college AU. More info will be in the author notes of each chapter.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Ellana Lavellan, Zevran Arainai/Female Inquisitor
Series: Skyhold University AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892698
Comments: 50
Kudos: 55





	1. Assassin Game AU

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who didn't read Dear Fen'harel, this takes place during the first round of the Assassin game, where you are given a plastic knife with someone's name on it and the goal is to get them alone and press the knife somewhere that would be fatal with a real knife. Once you defeat someone, you get their knife with their target and the game continues until they are just two left. 
> 
> In the original fic, Ellana got Zevran's knife and lies to him about already getting taken out so she can trick him. In the original fic she doesn't get very far before he takes her out. In this one shot things take an . . .unexpected turn.

"Want to come in?" Ellana asks at the door. "You know, wait in a safe harbor till you figure out a plan for Sera."

"The idea has merit," he says. "I think I shall take you up on it."

Ellana unlocks the back door and Zevran follows her inside. She tosses the keys in the bowl on the coffee table. 

"Where is Josephine?" Zevran asks. 

"She and Krem have class until four and then they sometimes catch dinner together," she says. "You want to watch a movie or something?"

"Sure." He fishes out a black flash drive from his pocket. "I have _The Last King_."

"Isn't that still in theaters?" she asks. 

The smile he flashes her would be patronizing on another person."Oh Ellana. A man of my talents is not restricted by --"

"The law?"

"Arbitrary distribution," he says instead.

"It's not some shaky cam bullshit from Rivain is it?"she asks. 

"I'm offended that you would think I would settle for anything but the best."

"I guess we'll see," she says. 

She slips off her backpack and pulls out her laptop, placing it on the coffee table. Zevran makes himself comfortable on the couch as she turns on her computer and logs in. 

"I assume you know where to go from here," she says.

Zevran takes her laptop in hand, sticking in his flash drive and dancing his fingers over the keys until the movie pops up on screen. Ellana settles in next to him. They curl up easily together, Ellana's arm draped around his waist, her head nestled against his chest.. Zevran wraps an arm around her shoulders, fingertips brushing against the bare skin of her arm. 

She will let the movie play for a little while before making an excuse for the bathroom. Then she'll sneak into her room and fish that godsdamn knife from her jeans.

"If we went to my apartment we could have watched this on the TV," Zevran grumbles a little.

"If we went to your apartment we would have to pass through fifteen different booby traps just to get to the living room," says Ellana. 

He tweaks the tip of her ear. "You're not wrong, I hate to say. At least you had the sense to get a laptop with a wide screen."

"Hush. I thought you wanted to watch this movie."

"I merely want to pass the time. There are other . . .options for doing so, if you desire." He slides a fingertip slowly down her jawline, so light it could be waved off as accidental though she knows better than to assume _that._

She rolls her eyes, but thoughts of kissing him flash through her mind. Ellana never quite forgot that night in the Hanged Man when Zevran kissed the breath out of her.

"Watch the movie," she says with fond exasperation.

"As my lady commands."

About twenty minutes in, Ellana shifts a bit and then sits up.

"Bathroom break," she says. "You don't have to pause it."

"But you're missing the most politically charged point of the movie," he protests.

"Yeah. I know. This is on purpose," she says. "Just make sure to pause if there's a fight scene."

She slips off the couch and heads down the hallway. Once out of sight, she quickens her pace and ducks into her room. There are about three pairs of jeans in her laundry basket and she grabs all of them, bunching the fabric around the pockets, desperately searching. She's got maybe a minute before Zevran gets suspicious and if she doesn't get the jump on him, she won't have a chance in hell. 

Finally her fingers feel the lump of plastic and she fishes it out of the pocket. Merciful Fucking Creators --

She doesn't register the soft sound of footsteps, barely audible on the carpet, until Zevran's hand closes around the wrist that holds the knife. 

"Oh _Ellana_." He whispers against her temple. She can feel the heat of him against her back. "You have much to learn in the art of subterfuge. You didn't even flush the toilet or shut the bathroom door."

Her heart thuds in her chest. Well. There goes having any kind of advantage. Zevran may be sneaky and he's probably fast, but she doubts that he's stronger than her. He does nothing but sit on his ass all day, flirting and hacking. 

She jabs her elbow into his chest, knocking him back enough to slip from his grip and dash for the door. Maybe she can still salvage this if she gets out of the apartment and hides somewhere until Zevran gives up looking for her and she can ambush him again. Hell, it worked on Krem.

But Zevran's arms wrap around her middle and haul her against his chest. She could slam her head back against his and break his nose, to slam her heel against his toes, but this isn't a real fight and she doesn't want to hurt him. 

But she has no compunctions of reaching behind her to tickle his sides. He jerks back, hands shoving her way in reflex. Before she can turn around and put the knife to his throat, he grabs her arms and twists them behind her back. With speed and a surprising amount of force, he pushes her against the wall, blocking any movement with the press of his body.

Ellana's nerves alight in a way that has nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with his breath panting against her ear, the warmth of his body behind her, the fact that she can't break his grip no matter how much she struggles. 

"Ellana, _carina,_ you should stop moving like that," he breathes against her, "or you are going to start feeling some unintended consequences."

Something swoops low in her gut at the thought. She twists even more than before, and savors the groan that Zevran makes in response. 

There is no breaking out of his hold, so Ellana has to play dirty.

"Zevran, you're hurting me," she gasps. 

Immediately he lets go and steps back. Ellana whirls around, brings the knife up --

Zevran grabs her wrist and slams it against the wall. It takes her willpower not to drop the knife to the floor. Before she can think about shoving him off, he crowds against her, the "unintended consequences" pressing against her thigh. Her other hand fists into his shirt, but she can't decide whether to shove him away or pull him closer. This close, all she can see is the amber of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the dark frame of his lashes.

The world goes still.

Her heart slams in her chest.

"Oh? What is this?" Zevran murmurs. His lips are so close she can almost feel them form the words. "Do you like this, Ellana?"

He takes his other hand and lays it flat, just below her collarbone, pressing her further against the wall. 

Heat floods her cheeks, her whole body throbbing. And she looks down, unable to hold his knowing gaze, only to catch her eyes on his lips. 

"Do you like the illusion that you have lost control," she watches those lips whisper. "That you are at my complete and utter mercy?"

She swallows thickly, her breath coming uneven and jerky.

"No," she says, the barest whisper.

Zevran rubs the tip of his nose against hers. "I think you're lying."

Despite their compromising position, despite the unmistakable proof of his desire digging into her thigh, Zevran remains a gentleman. His lips do not touch her, his hands do not wander away from her wrists. He initiates nothing and waits for her lead.

It's infuriating. 

Ellana leans forward that half inch of distance between them and kisses him. 

Zevran responds immediately with a sharp intake of breath, his fingers clenching around her wrist. Once granted permission, he kisses her with an unbridled fervor she can barely keep up with. The hand on her chest moves to cradle her face, fingertip skating down the edge of one ear in a way that makes her gasps in his mouth. Her free hand creeps up to the back of his neck and tugs at his hair. Another low groan sounds against her lips.

The dulled edge of her plastic knife digs into her palm from the force of her clenching it, but Ellana barely notices. She is suddenly on fire. Her blood roars in her ears, her heart feels like it will burst from her chest, and she knows, with great certainty, that her sanity is slipping away each time he sucks on her bottom lip.

" _Te deseo,"_ Zevran whispers, dragging his lips away from hers and nipping up her jawline. Ellana arcs her back at the touch of his lips on the shell of her ear. " _Todo sobre ti me enciende."_

She has no clue what that means but it sounds delicious against her ear. Maybe she will ask him later when her rational thought returns. Zevran sucks at the column of her neck and the moan that escapes her is almost humiliating. She wants -- she doesn't know what she wants but _fenedhis_ she wants it _badly_.

"Bed," she gasps, tugging at his shirt.

His breath hitches by her ear. "Yes."

He releases his grip on her wrist and spins her around, walking her backwards with his hands digging into her waist as he nibbles down the side of her neck. She lets the knife drop silently to the floor.

Fuck it. Whatever. She'll get him some other time. Right now their stupid game is farthest thing from her mind.

When her knees reach the edge of the bed, Zevran pushes her onto the mattress hard enough to send her bouncing, and then climbs on top of her. He slides one leg in between her own, pressing against her center and Ellana gasps at the shock of it. Zevran's mouth descends upon her, kissing her like he is trying to drink every sound she makes. Her hips buck at a desperate attempt to chase that feeling again and he shoves her back down by the hip.

Desire flares up in her chest. She drags her hands down to his belt and tries to pull him down, mold him to her. 

He takes both her hands in his and shoves them above her head before diving into another kiss. His knee presses into her groin, sending that spark through her blood and she tries to thrust back against it but it's not enough.

Merciful fucking creators she is going to combust.

Zevran breaks the kiss and licks down the column of her throat.

"What do you want, Ellana?" he whispers, her name like a lush obscenity.

"I don't -- I don't know," she whines. 

"Do you want me to touch you?"

" _Yes."_

He nips at her collarbone through her shirt.

"Where?"

"Anywhere," she gasps. "Everywhere. I don't care."

He transfers one of her wrists to his other hand, keeping both her hands held firmly above her head. With a feather light touch he takes his free hand and trails a path down her throat, past her clavicle, to ghost over breast. 

"Here?"

" _Yes."_

He cups her breast in his hand, his thumb pressing right over her nipple and Ellana's hips come unmoored from the bed. 

"You keep thrashing around and I will find something to tie you down with," he warns.

The thought of _that_ ignites something in her. 

"Oh, you like the sound of that, don't you? Why am I not surprised?" 

His hand continues its journey, dancing down her ribs and over her stomach. His fingers skate over the button of her jeans, tickling down to her inner thigh before dragging his thumb heavily down the seam of her jeans, right where she needs it the most, and not even the thickness of her clothing can hide the sensation of it. An embarrassing, keening noise erupts from her mouth as she arcs against his touch.

"Can I touch you here?"

" _Please_ ," she whispers. "Please _._ Zevran, I'm dying. Quit asking and just fucking _do something."_

He chuckles against her throat. "As my lady commands."

His fingers dive for the button of her jeans and flips it open with a twist of his wrist. The zipper is dragged down with it and then his fingers are slipping inside of her --

Ellana screams.

"Yes, that's what you wanted, wasn't it?" he whispers, pressing a kiss against her ear. "My god, you are wet. Poor Ellana, how you have suffered this day from my calloused teasing."

His fingers slide in and out of her, a sensation indescribably delicious, satisfying an ache she didn't know she had. His thumb presses circles against her clit -- her chest tightens, it almost hurts --

"Breathe, _mi amor_. Remember to breathe."

She lets out a sharp, gasping breath and sucks in another. Her body is growing hot, something tight winding up in her like a bow string. Zevran nips at the shell of her ear.

"I am going to let go for a moment and you are not to move your hands, understand?"

What? She can't even think straight enough to answer.

His fingers suddenly go still, teasing at her entrance and the sudden loss of it makes her whine.

"You didn't answer me."

Her fingers spasm in her comforter, the ache soaring into psychotic, obsessive _need._

" _Yes_ ," she hisses. "Yes, you sick bastard."

"That's my good girl." He kisses her brow, his fingers sliding back into her, and she releases a breath she forgot she was holding.

With expert efficiency, Zevran releases her wrists and slips behind her, unclipping her bra. Then he drags his fingers across her rib cage and pinches her nipple.

She almost shouts at the pleasure-pain that zaps straight to the center of her. But it's nothing compared to the feeling of his _mouth_ there, lightly trapping the bud between his teeth and sucking and holy hell--

" _F-fuck_ ,"she gasps. " _What are you doing to me?_ "

She can feel his chuckle vibrate against her ribs. 

"I'm making you sing," he says, his lips drifting back towards hers. His fingers pick up where his teeth left off. "You are so close, my sweet Ellana. I can feel it. Won't you sing for me?"

It takes only a few more strokes before Ellana is keening, back arching, fingers digging into the sheets, all while Zevran whispers something in Antivan that she couldn't even begin to process. The feeling of her orgasm tears through her nerves like a bolt of lightning.

She's made herself come before but it has never, not ever, felt like this. Chest heaving, face panting against the sheets, it takes several moments to collect herself.

When she opens her eyes, Zevran is straddling her, licking his fingers, the other hand holding a plastic knife with her name on it delicately at her throat. 

Her brain short circuits at the sight of him _licking her cum_ that it takes a moment to process the knife.

"Are you -- are you fucking serious?" she stammers. "How? _How?"_

 _"_ I got Sera this morning." He smirks around the tip of his ring finger. "You taste delicious, by the way."

Her stomach drops, the realization of what happened a bucket of ice on the warm pleasure of earlier.

"So you were lying this whole fucking time?" She shoves him and Zevran rolls easily off of her. 

"And you were not?" he asks, eyebrows raised. "Using your hospitality as a ruse to catch me off-guard, kissing me to put me in a vulnerable state?"

"Hey, I _dropped_ my knife! A long time ago, I might add."

"Yes, I know," he says smugly. "I'm very good at what I do. Did you really think you could out-tempt me?"

Ellana bites her lip. She hadn't been trying to distract him, then. In that moment she had just wanted him badly enough to throw her cultivated caution to the wind and just go for something she has only ever daydreamed about. How easily he went along, the fervor with which he kissed her, she thought he felt the same way.

But it was a game to him. A trick. The thought that touching her was something to tolerate while he manipulated her for his own advantage -- 

She unclenches her fists and takes a deep slow breath, blinking the sudden hotness in her eyes. How naive he would think of her if he knew how much this bothered her! To Zevran, sex is like a handshake or a high five. It has no meaning for him.

Zevran nudges her shoulder with his and grins. "Don't be embarrassed, Ellana. The way you responded -- how long has it been since someone touched you?"

Ellana swallows, unable to tell him the truth.

"Ellana?" His grin fades and he goes very still.

She can't bring herself to look at him. 

"You've never been touched by another person, have you? You're a virgin?"

She slowly shakes her head and dares to steal a glance at his reaction.

Zevran looks horrified and now she feels like she wants to combust for an entirely different reason. 

"It's not that big a deal, okay?" she says, scooting off the bed and heading for the door. "You used it to beat me, it was all fun and games, whatever. Let's just go back to the movie and we can pretend this whole thing never happ --"

His hand catches her arm and pulls her back to face him. It’s a hold she could easily break and for a second she considers it. But one look at his face, at the soft intensity of his eyes, keeps her still.

"I'm sorry, Ellana. I didn't know."

She swallows, wanting desperately for this whole afternoon to be over. "It's alright. I'm not -- upset. Like I said, it’s not a big deal, okay? It's not like we actually had -- had sex."

Her mouth trips over the words like the pathetic blushing virgin she is. 

"You are upset and therefore it is a _big deal_ ." he says with a little exasperation. "And by some people's definition of sex, we absolutely had it. However you want to categorize what is sex and what isn't, it's not insignificant what you allowed me to do with you. I would have never intentionally trivialized it for the sake of a game. Ellana, I am _sorry."_

The fact that he regrets it stings even worse than his nonchalance.

"It's okay," she says, throat tight. "I'm not mad, I'm just a little embarrassed I guess. Just thought you were -- into it like I was instead of just pretending to win the game." 

The moment the admission slips out, she wants to hit herself and the mortification ends her babbling. "Which is stupid, I know, because I'm sure that was like nothing to you and --"

"You think I don't want you."

His tone surprises her. It's flat -- almost angry. It doesn't match at all the tender way he cradles the side of her face, his thumb swiping at wetness hiding in the corner of her eye.

"You think that night at the Hanged Man hasn't haunted me for the last year." His eyes search her, study her. "You think I wouldn't drop everything to have you any way you would let me, any time you wanted me to.You have no _idea_ how much I've dearly wanted to touch you."

The implications of that send her mind reeling.

"You're not fucking with me?" she demands.

A ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips. "Not yet. But I've kept it to myself because I don't want to make you uncomfortable. If you never want to touch me again, I will find joy in just your company. But never doubt the hold you have over me, Ellana Lavellan. It's not something that happens to me often."

There is a riot happening in her chest, a response to this knowledge that shocks her. Something more than fondness that has sat in the shadows of her heart and unacknowledged. It's definitely something she needs to think about later. 

For now all she can do is take his hand, lead him into the living room, and curl back up with him on the couch. Zevran allows her silence, happy to run his hand up and down her back as they resume the movie.


	2. Senior Year Knifeplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months later, Ellana still can't touch or look at a knife. Zevran offers to help her through exposure therapy. This scene has CNC and knifeplay, but no blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene would happen roughly her fall senior year semester. They have already been together since the summer. I'm in the middle writing their first time/confession of love and had PLANNED on submitting in order and yet . . .that scene is being kind of an asshole. So in honor of Kinktober, I am putting this scene up instead.

The first time he even suggested it, they had been chopping vegetables for dinner. Sera had absconded to Dagna's with a six pack of coke, her extra gamer controller, and the biggest bag of sea salt and vinegar chips Ellana had ever seen, leaving her and Zevran alone for the night. Or the week. Sera tended to be gone for long stretches of time.

Now that their pickiest eater had left, Ellana planned on having a field day with the vegetables. Zevran chopped bell peppers while she de-forested a giant head of broccoli with her hands. Her gaze had kept sliding over to him, at the deft, graceful way he wielded the knife, like it was an extension of himself. Ellana knew her way around a knife from hunting and cooking, but she didn't handle it like that.

"You keep staring," he says. "I know I am beautiful, but we have other priorities right now."

Ellana rolls her eyes. "I'm not looking at _ your beauty.  _ Just how you handle a knife. You make it look so effortless. Like a professional."

Zevran takes a measured pause. "I have many years of experience with knives. And I was a professional -- just not with food."

She knows, without a shadow of a doubt, how much Zevran hates his past, loathes his actions and himself. If it were her, Ellana doesn't think she could ever touch a knife again, at least not something as big as a chef's knife.

"It doesn't bother you, wielding a knife?"

"I'm chopping vegetables, Ellana, I'm not killing people."

"Yeah, but it doesn't remind you of . . .anything?"

Zevran stops and looks over at her, the knife resting easily in his hand. "At first it did. But eventually I had to learn that a knife is just a tool. It has many uses outside of hurting people. Once I started using knives for other things, they gained new purpose and I gained new memories. Now it is easier to separate the past from my present."

"So, exposure therapy. Essentially."

"I suppose. The first step is not to hide from it."

He gives her a very pointed side-eye.

"I don't hide from things," she says.

"You can't even glance down that ally as you walk past it," he points out, an eyebrow raised.

"It's an ally! It's dirty and dingy and not worth looking at."

"Humor me sometime," he says.

"No thanks."

She pointedly returns her attention to the broccoli. Zevran's knife does not resume the sounds of chopping. Instead she catches a flash of silver and then hears a long, deliberate scraping. Ellana glances over and freezes at the sight of Zevran stepping closer towards her, dragging the tip of the knife down the counter. Her eyes dart between the edge of the blade and the side of her arm resting on the counter, and the closing distance between the two.

Her muscles stiffen, her mind already racing with possible exit strategies even as it fights to remind her that this is  _ Zevran _ , who would never hurt her. Ever.

He doesn't stop until the heat of him is behind her and his knife rests innocently next to her hand. Her fingers curl inward, as if trying to reduce the space between the two.

"Do you trust me?" he asks against her ear.

Ellana swallows. Her nerves practically burn with the knowledge that his knife is just  _ right there _ .

"Yes," she says.

"Then give me your hand."

Ellana forces her fingers to unclench and spreads them out on the chopping block. Zevran takes her hand and guides it to the knife, gently wrapping both their fingers around the hilt, his hand a warm weight on hers.

"You do not need to rip the broccoli heads like some kind of cave man," he says. "It's easy to sever them from the stem. It's all in the wrist motion."

Slowly their hands lift the knife and slice the remaining heads of broccoli. It's an act of such tame domesticity, yet Ellana's heart hammers in her chest. It's a sick kind of thrill, having the illusion of control over this knife that Zevran could slice her throat open within half a second before she could even think to react.

It's so easy to forget what he used to be, that in some alternate universe it could have been him pinning her down in the alleyway --

And the thought of  _ that _ suddenly ignites something in her, a dark primal need that makes her hand jerk against the knife.

Zevran goes still. "Ellana?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Hmm."

He sets the knife down and Ellana is grateful to let go of it. With careful but determined hands Zevran spins her around to face him. She crosses her arms, self conscious of a thought he can't read, and reluctantly looks at him.

"You're blushing,  _ mi amor _ ," he murmurs, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. "What are you thinking of?"

" _ Nothing _ ," she hisses.

"Nothing?" His fingertips trail down her cheek to her jawline. "You're not thinking of me . . ." They brush down the column of her throat " . . .holding that knife?"

One finger traces across her throat, from collarbone to collar bone, leaving a line of fire in their wake as if he really did cut her.

"Perhaps here?"

Ellana's breath hitches and she can't speak, not even to lie. The way Zevran's gaze cut into her, he knows exactly what she's feeling.

"I think," he says slowly, "that you may have something other than fear in your heart."

"It's fucked up, isn't it?"

"Not at all  _ mi amor _ . It's not unheard of as a reaction to a traumatic event. In fact, I think this might be a way for you to face your fear and help you move past it."

"How? By standing here and letting you touch me with a knife?" she demands, humiliated despite his reassurance.

The corner of his mouth twitches with the hint of a smirk. "I think I could find a way to make it much more fun than that. But there are many things we would have to discuss first. Perhaps after dinner?"

" . . .sure."

_________________________________________________________________________

It sounds insane and reckless and nothing like Ellana in her sheltered life had ever heard of before. And yet something in her burns to try it.

"Have you done something like this before?" she asks.

"Yes," he says. "But I was not the one with the knife."

"You were the one getting cut?"

He gives her a sharp look. "I am not going to cut you, Ellana. I will give you the illusion of danger without the risk. It may feel real, in the moment, but you are safe with me. I promise you that. I do not want you to even consider this if you don't feel that you can trust me with it. I would understand. I would not be upset."

She remembers, vividly, the blood on his shirt, the stitches down his chest, the way his hands had wrapped around Taliesin's throat.

"I trust you," she says. "Always."

He takes her hand. "That means more to me than you will ever know. But, Ellana, I need to know that I can trust you. I need to know that you will be honest with me about how you feel. If it gets to be too much, you have to tell me to stop. I can't have you bury your discomfort and pain because you don't want to look weak. Can I trust  _ you _ ?"

She nods, slowly. "Yes. I'll -- I'll tell you to stop if I need it."

Zevran gives her a stern look. "You  _ promise? _ It would hurt me, greatly, to know that I have hurt you. You are not the only vulnerable party."

"I promise, Zevran." She squeezes his hand.

  
  


"What do you say when you want to stop?" Zevran asks her.

They stand in her bedroom, the crickets chirping through the closed window. It was an agonizing wait for winter break and Josephine's absence to Antiva. But now that the night is here, Ellana's jangled up with nerves.

" _ On Nydha, _ " she says a little shakily.

"And what do I say when I check in?”

" _ Eres mi amor. _ ”

He chucks her under the chin.

"I'm going to leave. When you're ready, turn the lights off. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she says, despite her nerves.

He looks like maybe he wants to second guess her, but then leans forward and kisses her forehead before he leaves.

Ellana takes a deep breath once she's alone. She has always trusted Zevran to lead the way, leaned on his experience to guide her. This is no different, even if what they planned out sounds insane to her.

She steels her nerve, walks over to the light switch, and turns it off.

The room is plunged into darkness. Ellana fights against a rising tide of panic and anticipation. Her ears twitch and jump strain to hear something, anything.

Nothing.

Nothing for several minutes. She paces her room, standing near the bed, then closer to the window because she doesn't want to make it easier for him. Then she thinks of hiding in the closet and scaring the shit out of him, just to turn the tables.

After what feels like an eternity, Ellana turns and heads for the door, suddenly furious. Was this some kind of prank? Did Zevran just go home and leave her here to freak out over nothing?

Before she takes three steps she hears his voice behind her.

"What do we have here?"

Nothing. She heard  _ nothing _ . Ellana jerks away, deeply startled, but his arm locks around her shoulders, forearm pressing against her throat with just enough force to let her know how much he's holding back. 

"I thought I was leaving empty handed, but this apartment seems to have one treasure for the taking."

Wow. They're really doing this. He's really going to be in character.

"Who are you?" she asks, feeling slightly ridiculous. It's like playing pretend games as a child.

"Right now? The person holding your life in his hands," he says.

He sounds deadly serious. Ellana feels a little less ridiculous and a little more afraid.

"Let go of me," she hisses, jabbing behind her with an elbow. It connects with his taut stomach and she hears a rush of air escape him. 

She doesn't mean to hit him, but in the dark it's starting to feel real. It doesn't matter. His grip remains unyielding. He tightens it ever so slightly, making it hard to swallow.

"Shhh. Don't struggle,  _ carina _ . If you fight me, I might have to hurt you."

His other hand fumbles at something behind her and then something flashes in the light filtering in the curtains. 

The knife. 

The sight of it makes the bottom of her stomach drop out, crystallize the vague panic into outright fear. But the sound of Zevran's voice, the knowledge that even in this game with him she is safe, turns the fear into something  _ else _ . Something that makes her blood sing.

"You are taller and probably stronger than me." he says conversationally. The flat of the knife brushes against her abdomen, just above the edge of her jeans. 

Her stomach shivers and spasms, taut in its retreat.

"But I am quick and this knife is very sharp." The edge of it travels slowly up her torso, cold even over her shirt. The arm hooked around her throat slides away as the knife comes to a rest level with her clavicle.

"It could cut your skin like paper. Do you like those odds?" Gently, soft as a breeze, the knife drags itself across her clavicle. Ellana doesn't breathe. "I would not, if I were you."

Her heart feels like it could break loose from her chest. The instinct to run wells up in her and she tamps down on her rising panic. 

His other arm curls around her waist like a lover's, thumb stroking her hipbone. The gentle caress, so at odds with the promise of violence from his other hand. 

" _ Eres mi amor? _ " he whispers, so soft she can barely hear it.

_ Do you want to continue? _

" _ Si _ ."  _ Yes. _ She swallows. "What do you want?" 

"Well I had hoped to rob the place blind, but you have nothing of value. So I will settle for you."

"Me?"

Zevran chuckles low against her ear. "Does that surprise you? It shouldn't. I watched this place for hours before I came. I know how beautiful you are. And I am going to know every inch of you."

Already her body, so used to the lilt of his voice, the smooth slide of his compliments, wants to press up against him. It's so tempting to melt into him without resistance and sink into the comfort of familiarity.

But that is not why they're doing this.

"Like hell!"

Ellana shoves her full weight back into him, sending him stumbling, distracted enough that she can duck under his loosened grip. She bolts to the door, but he recovers before she can reach it. 

Hands digging almost painfully into her hips, he grabs her tightly, spins her around, and shuts the door by shoving her back against it. Then he covers her mouth with one hand and brings the knife up with the other.

The point of the blade hovers over her jugular and that jolt of fearful arousal crackles under her skin. She's looked up knife play before this. You're not supposed to go this close to the throat.

"You seem an intelligent girl," he says, his serene voice at odds with the tight grips he holds her. "You are at Skyhold after all. So it should be easy for you to understand that struggling is futile. I am going to have you, in any way I choose, and you cannot stop me without putting your life at risk. Nod if you understand."

She contemplates staying still, rebellion rising up in her as it has her whole life. But the dangerous edge in Zevran unnerves her.

So she nods.

"Ah, so she can be taught." he purrs. "You will take everything I give you. You will obey my every command. If you do, you need not fear this knife. Nod if you understand."

Ellana nods again.

"Good girl," he murmurs against her ear and she shivers. The hand over her mouth moves to caress her cheek, the backs of his fingers trailing over her collar bone. They travel down, leaving her nerves singing in their wake, down her throat, skimming over her shoulder and down the arm that hangs uselessly by her side, to rest his palm gently against her abdomen.

"You're trembling,  _ carina _ . You're afraid. That's good." His thumb traces light circles above her belly button. "You should be afraid."

She should be afraid, but she's not. Or she is but it's of her own making and it's steadily being drowned in her arousal.

"How much will it hurt?" she finds herself asking, her voice the barest whisper. 

Warm lips press against her ear, sending another shiver rippling down her spine. 

"Who says it has to hurt?" he says, so deceitfully soft. His hand dips under the hem of her shirt to trace nonsensical patterns over her skin; goosebumps erupt in their wake.

His teeth close around the tip of her ear and her breath stutters in her chest.

Fucking Creators. This was the weirdest, most erotic, most fucked up thing she's ever done in her life and it is making her insane with desire.

"Take off your pants" he whispers.

Ellana's fingers drift to the front of her sweatpants and then clenches around the knotted tie. lurking underneath the layer of fear that may or may not be fabricated is her usual streak of rebellion.

"Why don't you take them off," she retorts.

"Because I'm the one with the knife and you are going to do exactly as I say."

"Or what?"

Without any warning he grabs her roughly by the hips and shoves her around to face the door. Ellana only barely manages to brace her hands on the wood before her face smacks into it. Zevran's right -- he is faster than her. Scarily so.

One of his hands wraps around her ponytail and tugs sharply down, craning her head back.

The edge of the knife whispers across the bottom of her throat. Zevran had promised he would never touch her with the sharp end, but in the dark, pressed up against the door, her scalp tingling from the rough grip he has on her hair, it feels real enough that her entire being freezes.

"You want to be brave, don't you?" he murmurs. "You want to forget how much you're trembling in my arms."

"I'm not," she hisses, a bald-faced lie. She's shaking from her fingertips to her calves.

"No?"

He releases her hair, his hand traveling lightly over her shoulder and down her spine. The hot press of his lips follow soon after, scraping against her juglar before trailing down to her shoulder blades. Ellana's whole body shudders in response and he chuckles knowingly against her throat, having made her shake likes this many times before.

"Perhaps I was mistaken," he says, bemused.

His hand slides around her waist to the front of her band of her sweatpants.

"I really should make you bleed for this," he says conversationally. "But I'm enjoying myself too much. You are a gift I get to unwrap. Keep your hands on the door."

With agonizing slowness, Zevran pulls apart the ties of her sweat pants before pushing them down her thighs. His warm fingers squeezes over her ass as he slides her underwear off with the rest of it. Ellana fights against the urge to squirm against him.

"Can you shimmy out the rest of the way for me,  _ carina _ ? I'm afraid I rather have my hands full."

It's both a joke and a reminder that the cold steel of his blade still rests at her clavicle. Ellana swallows and slowly kicks her sweatpants and underwear off one leg at a time.

"Good girl," he says. Her heart rate spikes at the praise and she hates herself for it. "Can you do one more thing for me? Can you open your thighs?"

His hand glides up and down the top of her thigh, skirting closer and closer to her center. As much as she desperately wants him to touch her there, she clenches her thighs closed, muscles straining under his hand.

With that almost inhuman speed the knife disappears from her throat and replaces the hand on her thigh. The stark contrast between his warm fingers and icy blade make her flinch. The dull edge drags upwards towards her abdomen.

"My brave little bird. I don't think you understand how sharp this knife is. Perhaps I shall give you a taste."

Instantly her muscles seize up in panic, despite knowing he wouldn't cut her. But right now it feels like a different person gave her that promise.

His hand reaches up and lifts her shirt up. Ellana's breath hitches as the knife whispers over her clenched stomach before lifting up and piercing the shirt he has pulled taut. With one quick and masterful tug, Zevran cuts the fabric all the way down to the hemline.

The knife positively glides, as if the shirt is nothing more than soft butter. If fabric is ripped so easily, what would it do to her skin?

"Do you remember what I said before? You do exactly as I tell you and this knife will never draw blood. Now.  _ Open. Your. Thighs _ ."

Ellana stifles a cry and forces her legs to relax and part.

"There we go. You just needed the right motivation." he whispers.

His fingertips trail lazily over her stomach and down to her folds, slipping embarrassingly easy over them.

A spark of sharp pleasure crackles under her skin at the contact. Her lips part in a gasp she lost control of.

"My God you are wet," he whispers in delight, his fingers sliding down to her entrance. "You are  _ dripping _ for me. No wonder you were so reluctant to let me feel."

Ellana buries her burning face in the crook of her arm.

"Oh don't be embarrassed,  _ carina _ ," he croons in her ear. "Someone people get off on the thrill of danger. I have to say, I'm highly flattered. Perhaps you will enjoy this after all. I can't say I'm opposed to the idea."

Now that her shirt hangs in two cleanly ripped pieces, her bare chest is hit with the cold air of the bedroom.

Zevran's hand roams from her soaking core to her thigh, fingers squeezing the muscle there before gliding up over her hipbone and over her stomach, stopping at her breasts, which he lightly kneads. The brush of his thumb over her nipple sends a jolt of pure lust down straight to her center.

"You are so strong, my brave little bird. I can feel your muscles straining. If I ever indulged in a fair fight, I'm certain you would win." 

He pinches her nipple roughly and chuckles at the sharp gasp she makes. "It's going to make forcing you to submit to me so much more satisfying."

He trails the blunt edge of the knife trail back down over her hip, sliding the flat of it over the swell of her ass before brushing the edge down the back of her thighs. Ellana pants as he traces nonsensical patterns up and down this part of leg, brushing occasionally against her inner thigh, so close to where she wants it, before darting away again.

She had no idea this part of her body was so sensitive. Her breath jerks and stutters as he barely touches her, her clit aching. Every so often his lips will press hotly against the side of her neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps down her arm.

Ellana shifts her weight from foot to foot, desperately seeking relief until she breaks down and clamps her thighs back together. She gets a brief second of almost-relief before Zevran roughly breaks her legs apart with his knees.

"Did I say you could move?" he asks. "Oh, but I'm not angry. Poor little bird, you must be so aching by now. Do you want me to touch you?"

She nods.

"I beg your pardon?"

" _ Yes _ ," she hisses.

"Ah." His hand appears on her inner thigh, warm, the callouses rough on her skin. He teases her entrance, gliding his fingertip over the crease of her thigh.

"Beg me for it," he says against her ear.

Ellana clamps her mouth shut. No fucking way is she giving him that satisfaction, no matter how desperate she is.

"Oh? Are we shy now?"

He brushes ever so slightly over her folds, tracing one finger up and down her slit. Ellana swallows thickly, almost to tears.

"It's easy,  _ carina _ . The first thing you say is  _ please _ . Can you say that?"

She bites her lip until it hurts. The word wants to burst out of her.

" _ Please _ you could say.  _ Please make me cum. Please _ . The  _ please _ very important. Can you say that?"

Godsfucking damn it she wants to. But she also wants to see how long she can hold out and make him wait for it. Maybe he will beg her to beg him.

"Ah, you're very stubborn." He continues to lazily drag her finger around her soaked entrance, skirting in every place but the one she needs the most. "But I am very patient and I can outlast you."

She snorts.  _ We'll see about that _ .

"God, you really are so wet," he says. "I would love nothing more than to make you cum. I bet you're loud when you cum. Oh, you don't want to be. You try so hard to hold it in. But I would make you scream. Wouldn't you like me to make you scream,  _ carina _ ? I want to badly, I want to push this finger into your needy, aching cunt and press my thumb over this soaked little clit of yours and make you cum so hard you forget your own name. Don't you want that?"

She moans against her forearm, but he can still hear it.

"You know what to say."

He brushes the barest tip of his finger over her clit, a whisper of a touch, and her knees go weak.

" _ Please,"  _ she says, raggedly. " _ Please make me cum _ ."

Fucking hell she hates herself.

Instantly the entire heel of his palm slides over her mound and presses down onto her clit. The sudden pressure makes Ellana see stars, keening loud and needy.

Zevran slides his finger into her, her hips lurch forward. She is so slick and wanting that he pumps two fingers into her without the slightest hint of resistance. Her body craves him.

"Good girl," he says. "Good, good girl. My  _ god _ , I am to make you cum. I am going to make you scream and thrash like the wild thing I know you are. I cannot  _ wait. _ But first --"

He slides his fingers out abruptly and steps away. A sob escapes her at the sudden loss of him. Ellana whirls around, furious. His hands come up to her shoulders and jerk her shirt, ripping what little remained at the collar before stripping it from her.Her nipples, already hard, stiffen almost painfully in the cold air.

"Get on the bed," he says.

" _ Fuck you _ ," she spats. "What the hell are you --"

His hand wraps around her throat and her entire body freezes. The grip is not hard or painful -- in fact, his fingers rest very lightly on her skin. But fear paralyzes her.

" _ Eres mi amor?" _

She hesitates.

Zevran is not going to hurt her.

" _ Si _ ."

He steps closer until her back presses up against the wall and his chest crowds against hers and she can feel the hard outline of his erection against her thigh. His thumb caresses the hollow of her throat.

The knife glints in the streetlight, held loosely at his side but Ellana's not deceived.

"I do love this spirit of yours," he says so softly. "You burn so brightly and it thrills me. But you should know that I do not need a knife to hurt you. So stop gambling with your life and do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?

She nods, slowly.

"I knew you were a good girl," he says, nudging her with his nose. "Despite the attitude. Now, get on that bed. Lay on your back. And  _ do not move _ ."

His hands slide away from her throat and he steps back. Ellana takes her quaking body to her bed and lies down. She feels feverish, goosebumps rippling down her arms and thighs.

She hears the sound of fabric ripping, twice. Then the clatter of the knife as he sets it on the nightstand.

The bed dips as Zevran crawls on top of her, his legs bracketing her on either side, ensuring her legs can do nothing but kick ineffectually at the air. The knife sits within easy reach and he could have it at her throat in a second. Maybe she could beat him to it, but she doesn't like those odds.

Quickly and without remorse, he takes one of her arms and stretches it out of her head, tying the end of what looks like a remnant of her t-shirt around her wrist before securing the other end around one of the wooden slats of the headboard.

"What are you doing?" Her voice shakes and she hates it.

"You really think I trust those beautiful muscles of yours? I don't want you breaking my glorious face."

She gives the rope and experimental tug. It does not budge. There's no way she could free herself without considerable time and effort. 

Zevran has her well and truly trapped and thought sends a surge of panic through her. Despite the knife, her earlier cooperation was a choice. She could have taken the risk and fought back.

But now her options are gone -- she has no choice but to submit. With his weight on top of her she could thrash all night and accomplish nothing. Ellana's strong but so is Zevran, in a way she did not expect. What other skills has he hidden about himself to make him seem less threatening?

Her heart hammers in her chest.

_ On Nydha _ .

Those two words would bring everything to a screeching halt. He would untie her immediately Zevran-her-boyfriend would come back, soothing her, trying to figure out his mistake. At least, that's what he promised her.

And she believes him.  _ On Nydha _ reminds her that none of this is real, neither his cruelty nor her lack of control. Secure with that knowledge, Ellana lets him tie down her other hand.

Besides, she is so blindingly, stupidly turned on that she would let him pretty much do  _ anything  _ if it meant she got any sort of relief.

He straightens up and then Ellana hears the clack of his belt coming undone. Immediately her heart rate skyrockets, despite her earlier reassurance.

Gods, it's happening. It's really happening. No more teasing, no more wasted focus on riling her up. He is going to fuck her while she's held down and helpless. The thought electrifies her, desire sharpened by the edge of terror.

Zevran slides down and knees apart her legs and her body clenches up in feared anticipation at the feeling of the head of his cock against her folds.

He runs a hand over her stomach as if comforting a frightened halla.

"Shhh, you need to relax. I don't want this to hurt you."

His cock slides hard and hot against her clit. She bites her lip against her groan of frustration. A few minutes of just that and she would come. Hell, at this point she would probably come if he just breathed on her.

"So the knife is -- just decorative?" she retorts raggedly.

"No." He drags himself slowly up and down her slit. Ellana's hip buck up, chasing him, until he holds her down with one hand pressed against her hip bone.  _ Fuck _ .

"The knife is for motivation. You are so deliciously rebellious I had to use it." He leans down and nudges the tip of her nose with his own. "I want you this to feel good for you."

With one hand on her hip, he slides himself in tortuously slow. Ellana gasps, arching her back, heels digging into the bed.

"Yes," he breathes against her. "I want you to want this."

He bottoms out and Ellana throbs against him.

"I want you to ache for me, to need me," he continues, sliding out just as slowly and easily as he pushed in.

A whine builds up in her throat. Fucking godsdamn she has never wanted to be fucked so badly in her life.

He stops for a moment and for the first time that night he kisses her with all the soft tenderness she's accustomed to. Ellana eagerly kisses him back, wanting just a taste of normalcy, of reassurance that this Zevran is just a facade. The warmth of his hand as he cradles her face grounds her just enough.

His lips drag themselves sensuously across her jawline until they reach her ear.

"I want you to know," he whispers, "that a strange man with a knife stole away into your bedroom and fucked you out of your mind and you  _ loved it _ ."

And then he snaps his hips roughly into her, filling her in one thrust. The scream that erupts from her has undoubtedly woken at last one of her neighbors. One of his hands clamp around her mouth.

"Hush!" he whispers against her. "While I certainly enjoy your enthusiasm, if the cops show up for a noise complaint it will be . . . _ very _ bad for you."

How the hell is she supposed to keep quiet when he fucking her hard enough to shake the bed? She has lost absolute total control over her own reactions -- moans vibrate obscenely against his hand, her body shivers and thrashes underneath him, her thighs shaking, heels digging deep into the mattress.

Each thrust drives him deep in her, both satisfying the aching need for him and exasperating it. He pins her to the mattress with the weight of his body and she can't wrap her arms around him, she can't buck her hips to take him in deeper -- all she can do is lie there and take it, keening against his fingers.

And yet he still has the faculties to speak, to whisper ragged, filthy things in her ear with the rhythmic drive of his hips.

" _ Fuck _ you are tight. So tight and wet for me. You can't hide your desire any longer,  _ carina _ . Oh, if only I could take you somewhere and  _ really _ make you scream. Perhaps I shall do that. Perhaps I shall come back and steal you away, blindfold you take you to the middle of nowhere. You would disturb no one but the birds with those delicious noises you make and I would fuck you until you were too hoarse to beg me to stop."

Fucking hell, she imagines the scenario as he describes it and it only makes her blood roar louder in her ears. Maybe when she can --  _ think straight _ \-- she might plan out exactly that in Skyhold National Forest.

"I'm getting close,  _ carina _ , so close," he says and he's voice is starting to sound ragged. "You think you are desperate and needy? You have no idea the restraint I have had this evening not to cut your sweatpants off with my knife and bending you over the second I came into the room. I have been very careful have I not? Very careful and patient but no longer. You are going to have my cum, it's just a matter of where. Your stomach perhaps? Your face? Will I shove my cock down your throat and make you drink every drop? Or will I just stay here?"

In the middle of the overwhelming sensation of getting fucked, a tendril of thrilling fear curls in her gut.

"Yes, I could cum right here, in this tight, beautiful cunt, until it drips down your leg and ruins your mattress. How risky -- how dangerous! The thrill rather excites me. I would ask you if you want it but I don't really care and you're not really capable of speech at the moment."

It would be incredibly stupid, even if Ellana's on birth control, and she doesn't think he would  _ actually _ do it and yet she really  _ really _ wants him to. Just when she's contemplating wrapping her legs around his and forcing him (for once) to stay put, Zevran pulls roughly out and hovers over her, as warm ropes of cum paint her stomach.

"Fuck.  _ Fuck _ ." He groans, a reluctant, tightly restrained noise, the only bit of control he has lost this whole evening.

Ellana's heart roars in her ears, her chest pounding so hard it almost hurts to breathe. Zevran removes his hand from her mouth and she sucks in deep gulps of air.

"Oh  _ carina _ , you have been such a good girl." He smooths away hair from her damp forehead. "Truly, this whole evening has been inspiring. But I'm afraid I must leave you. It is getting late and I never intended to stay this long. I'm certain you can free yourself after a couple of determined hours."

The sheer  _ outrage _ at this robs her of any speech as if he had gagged her. He wouldn't dare leave her like this. He  _ wouldn't dare _ .

Zevran chuckles. "Oh the look on your face. You would murder me if given half the chance. It may sound hard to believe, but I consider myself a gentleman. And a gentleman always repays his debts. But first, put this in your mouth. You're going to need it."

He tugs one of her extra pillows over and presses the corner of it against her lips. Ellana bites down obediently, despite the urge to mulishly refuse, too afraid he really would leave her high and dry if she didn't behave.

Then he kisses down her neck, scraping his teeth over her jugular, nibbling over her collar bone, until his lips brush over her nipple. At first she thinks he might continue to tease her, as he has done so infuriatingly this whole fucking evening, but he latches onto her breast and sucks hard.

The pillow comes in handy, blocking the groan that bursts from her. His hand comes to play with her other nipple, teasing and pinching, rolling it between his fingers until she's twisting and thrashing hard beneath him.

" _ Please _ ," she chokes out over the pillow, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, and it's the most pathetic she's ever sounded in her life and she can't even care. Having satisfied his own desires, he now has room to be magnanimous.

"As my lady commands," he murmurs, flicking his tongue over her nipple one last time.

Then he slides down the rest of her body, presses his mouth against her aching cunt, and devours her.

Strung along so much this night, teetering constantly on the edge of arousal and fear and teased unmercifully, the moment Zevran pumps three fingers into her, Ellana comes  _ hard.  _ A shockwave of pleasure ignites her nerves, her body seizing up against him like he electrocuted her. She screams hard against the pillow, almost sobbing.

"That's my girl," he says, lifting his head up to watch her shiver through the aftermath.

She is out of her mind, all thoughts wiped clean, just as he said. She wouldn't even know her own name if he asked.

He slides his fingers carefully from her and licks them clean, the sight so stupidly arousing despite her boneless relief.

"I could do anything I wanted to you and you would not have the strength to fight me," he says with smug satisfaction.

He reaches and grabs the knife from the night stand and straddles her.

She is too worn out to be afraid. In two neat cuts Zevran frees her from the bed.

"This is where I leave you," he says. "But perhaps . . .not forever." He caresses the side of her face with the flat end of the knife. "Stay on your guard,  _ carina _ . I may come back for more."

With that he climbs off the bed and slips out the unlocked window.

Ellana sits up, the sudden stillness of solitude unnerving. She hears no sound besides the wind outside. He didn't really  _ leave _ leave, did he?

Just when she's about to fumble for her phone, she hears the tap turn on in the bathroom. A couple minutes later the hall light comes on, spilling into the bedroom with a dull glow, and Zevran appears with a washcloth in his hands.

The knife is gone.

He climbs back up in the bed and carefully cleans up the mess he made on her stomach. The warm washcloth causes goosebumps on her shivery, sensitive skin and Ellana closes her eyes, content to focus on the sensation of it.

He remains oddly quiet as he pulls out one of her baggy nightshirts and a fresh pair of underwear from her dresser and picks up the sweatpants off the floor. With tender hands he unties the remnants of her shirt from her wrists and dresses her.

It's a little embarrassing having him tug on her underwear and sleep pants, but she has a feeling he needs to do this for her. When she's dressed and cleaned up, he curls up next to her on the bed, their knees knocking together.

"Talk to me," he says. "Tell what you think. What do you feel?"

"I think that was the hottest thing that's ever happened to me and that makes me weird and fucked up," she admits.

Now that the fantasy of the moment has passed, Ellana can't help but cringe at herself. What kind of sick freak lets her former assassin boyfriend pretend to rape her at knife point? Gods, there’s got to be a disorder for this kind of thing.

"No,  _ mi amor _ ," he says, his fingers skimming over her hairline. "Many,  _ many _ people have that fantasy. And when you break it all down to its barest parts, it's merely about trust. To give up your control to me is an act of the purest intimacy and I gift I treasure. It's not something to be ashamed of."

Ellana rolls her eyes. "When you put it like that, dragging a knife over my body almost sounds romantic."

"Did it frighten you?" His gaze weighs heavily on her. "Did anything I do frighten you? Please be honest."

She takes a moment to seriously contemplate the answer. Did she ever have a moment of true fear? There was adrenaline, panic, anticipation, but fear? Did she ever think, for even a second, that Zevran would hurt her, would force her to comply with something she didn't want, would have kept going if she told him to stop?

"No," she says.

He raises an eyebrow. "Not even when I tied you to the bed? I could feel you panic underneath me. Ellana, you  _ have _ to tell me the truth."

She reaches out and traces the two black lines of his facial tattoo, his reminder that he had left that life behind. "Yeah, I got nervous because I couldn't move. And I almost said the safe word. But just knowing you would stop if I said it calmed me down. I know I'm safe with you."

Zevran looks as though she just sucker punched him.

"You mean that?"

"Of  _ course _ I do." She narrows her eyes in concern, sick as she always feels when his self loathing comes to the surface. "You told me to be honest. Are you really not going to believe me?"

His fingers trace the lines of her face, as if he thinks she might fade away.

"The fact that you put your life in my hands without fear does more for me than you will ever know," he whispers.

Ellana takes his fingers and presses them to her lips. "You're not a monster, Zevran."

"I still need the reminder."

"Is that what you get out of it? The reminder?"

When they started discussing this, Ellana had worried Zevran was only doing it to indulge her. Keeping her hands away from him, teasing her with the barest of touches, she didn’t get any opportunity to touch him herself and that concern followed her deep into the scene. 

And then he pressed up against her, hand on her throat, and she could feel every inch of him against her thigh.

"I work hard to make people forget, but I am a very dangerous man, Ellana." He swallows, as if the admission tastes bitter in his mouth, "I could kill anyone I put my hands on. It's not a skill I ever wanted or was proud of, but I cannot delete it from my mind. It lives in me forever. It brings me relief to know I can use some of those skills to bring you pleasure rather than pain or fear."

She would never admit that it unnerves a little, seeing that other side to him. It's one thing to know in theory about his dangerous past -- it's another to see it reenacted so vividly. Even after witnessing him nearly murder Taliesin, its easy to forget that at any given moment he has the power to hurt her and she has very little defense against him.

But she can't imagine ever feeling unsafe around him. His kindness overpowers any lingering darkness.

She scoots in closer until her head is nestled under his chin. His arm falls around her waist with old familiarity. The sound of heartbeat under her ear never fails to soothe her. They lay like that for a long time, his thumb tracing patterns on her hip bone.

"You said something about blindfolding me and taking me out in the middle of nowhere?" she asks.

" . . .I did, yes."

"How long have you been thinking about  _ that _ ?"

He chuckles and she savors the sound, the way he vibrates against her ear. "I have thought about having you in a hundred different ways for a very long time. Is it something you want to try?"

"I think," she says slowly, "that I wouldn't mind not having to be quiet."

"The weather doesn't have to be warm to go camping and enjoy ourselves," he points out.

"I . . ." she licks her lips. "I want you to make me go."

"Ah. I’m guessing this little experiment of ours was a success, then?"

"Maybe." Her face heats up and she presses it into his chest.

He presses a kiss on top of her head. "I think I am going to enjoy figuring out the particulars of  _ that  _ excursion. Perhaps in the morning."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I tagged for this scene pretty well but if there is anything that I missed in the fic tags, feel free to make suggestions.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not very familiar with smut so if I need to add tags, please don't hesitate to tell me!
> 
> Translations via google translate so I'm sorry if it's wrong, haha
> 
> carina -- sweetheart/darling, ect. 
> 
> te deseo -- I want you
> 
> Todo sobre ti me enciende -- everything about you turns me on.
> 
> mi amor -- my love


End file.
